Never Play with Knives
by Gumnut
Summary: Jack O'Neill, a hoard of Jaffa, and a goa'uld with a penchant for knives (complete)


Never Play with Knives  
  
By Gumnut  
  
1st July 2003  
  
They say blood is red, but in the reflections of the typical goa'uld home décor, it is a glistening brown. Liquid earth. Liquid Tauri. He held his hand up, turning it as he gazed at it in stunned fascination. Brown blood dripped to the floor.  
  
They say life flashes before your eyes at the last second before death. It doesn't. But time slows. Giving your brain that last moment to realise that this is it, the time has come, this is your last mistake, the chips are down and there is no way you are going to avoid the inevitable.  
  
Glazed eyes flickered up towards his opponent. Glowing, defiant arrogance flashed back. Typical. Here I am, dying, and my last sight is going to be one of those slimy snakeheads sneering at me. Screw that!  
  
O'Neill let his hand drop to the floor beside him and clenching every muscle in his body, attempted to lift himself off the ground. Fire exploded in his belly, cutting him in half, and a thin trickle of blood ran down his chin as he bit into his lip. But he slowly stood. He wasn't going to die like this. Killed by some minor pathetic goa'uld who didn't even know his name.  
  
"If this is the way you treat your guests, Kathus, it is no surprise that you get so few." he all but gasped, "Then again, it could just be your B.O."  
  
The goa'uld's eyes flickered in irritation before the usual over confident sneer returned. He flashed a hand at his guard, turned and walked off down the corridor.  
  
O'Neill's eyes tracked him, so he didn't see what hit him. White exploded on the left side of his head and as the floor spun to meet him, his last thought was of how sick he was of that blasted gold décor...then the dark claimed him.  
  
**********  
  
He opened his eyes to a face full of floor. Where? Oh, damn.  
  
Everything ached. Someone was using his head for an anvil, and had lit a fire in his stomach. Conclusion...another mission gone sour.  
  
"Daniel?" His voice rasped, barely there. "Sam? Teal'c?"  
  
Nothing. In fact there was little sound at all. He'd been left for dead.  
  
Knowing he would regret it, he tentatively pushed himself off the floor. The explosion in his stomach was expected and he hunched. The floor stuck to him, his clothes peeling off it like old glue. Red glue. He had been lying in a pool of his own blood. Some of it had dried sticking to him and the floor.  
  
Ah, yes. Kathus had a penchant for knives and had decided to use him for target practice. The would-be-god hadn't liked it when he had objected. Typical, liked to give, couldn't take.  
  
Another pain-filled minute and he was able to sit against the wall. It took the breath out of him. He sat for a moment before gently pulling at his clothes to assess the damage.  
  
Not good. There was a nice deep hole in his gut. And it was still bleeding. Fumbling for his first aid kit, he took out some padding and bandage, and with many a groan and gasp of pain, proceeded to dress himself the best he could  
  
Painful task number one completed, he leant back against the wall and tried not to breathe. Motivation for painful task number two wasn't needed, but energy was. He rested for a whole five seconds before pushing himself off the floor.  
  
Oh, yes, that hurt, damn. The wall held him up, but he stood. Morphine would be nice, but he couldn't afford to dope himself up. He had to think. His team...  
  
His team had been taken from him the moment they walked through the Stargate. The MALP had said 'nice, quiet planet', not a thing had been said about 'nice, quiet planet with heavily guarded goa'uld installation'.  
  
They had been zatted from behind the moment the wormhole disengaged.  
  
He had woken to find himself the object of attention. Your typical goa'uld pleasure palace, gold décor, lots of places to lounge around, the resident glowing-eyed snake boy sitting on his throne.  
  
He'd been questioned, of course, and none too politely. He'd learnt more than his captors, however. Seems this god-wanna-be had been out of the loop for a while. Had no idea who O'Neill was or where he came from. O'Neill wasn't about to let on either. It quickly became apparent that Kathus, a minor goa'uld nobody who thought he was somebody, had no idea of the value of the people he had in his hands. It made a refreshing change, really, for his reputation not to precede him.  
  
It had a downside, however. Kathus also had no reason not to kill him, and it seemed he had a hobby involving knives.  
  
It was at this point O'Neill had elected to make the obligatory escape attempt. It had gone quite well, him taking out both of his guards, up to the point Kathus had thrown one of his toys at him as he fled through the door. It had slowed him and they had caught up before long. Kathus had taken back his knife, a nice serrated little number with multiple barbs sticking out of it. That was how O'Neill had found himself on the floor the first time.  
  
Through it all had been the one thought...find the team. His team had been captured, it was his responsibility, they trusted him to get them home...find the team.  
  
He eased himself upright. He could do this, he just had to find the right state of mind. He'd done it before, he could do it again. Focus.  
  
He took the first step.  
  
**********  
  
Daniel hated being locked up. It brought back bad memories. He prowled the cell back and forth restlessly. Teal'c sat in a corner meditating, probably saving his strength for opportunity. Sam sat in the other corner, head in hands, thinking. She'd only just sat down after combing the cell walls for the fifth time.  
  
"We have to find a way out of here."  
  
"State the obvious, Daniel." Frustrated sigh. "Will you please stop that."  
  
"Stop what?"  
  
"Sit down, Daniel." The look in her eyes sat him down. "Thank you." Another sigh.  
  
"I'm sure he's alright, Sam." Her eyes flickered at him, seeing through the comforting lie. "We've been in worse spots than this." He didn't even believe himself.  
  
They had woken up in this cell hours ago. No food, no water, no Jack. Only the ominous presence of the typical goa'uld interior decoration. No one had come to speak to them. They had no idea where they were and no way to get out.  
  
Another frustrated sigh. Sam stood up again and began to comb the walls for the sixth time.  
  
**********  
  
Jack slid his head around the corner. He blinked to clear his watering eyes.  
  
Well, it wasn't where his team was being held, but useful nonetheless.  
  
The large room held a stargate. It obviously wasn't the one they had come through, but he was pretty sure it could get them home again...once they had got past the heavily armed guards.  
  
He stepped back into his hiding place, wondering for the umpteenth time how he was going to find his friends without a map. He'd come across the occasional piece of goa'uld script, each time regretting not paying more attention to Daniel's translations...and wishing he knew where he was. This place could go on for miles, and he knew he didn't have the stamina for such a search.  
  
He could go through the gate, he still had his GDO, bring back reinforcements. Two factors scuttled that plan. The jaffa guards, and the fact that his team could be moved from here because of his escape and he would most probably never see them again.  
  
So back to plan A. Find the team, spring the team, get the team through the stargate.  
  
His planning was interrupted by the familiar sound of a chevron engaging. He peered around the corner again. The guards had come to attention, weapons ready, as the chevrons lit up the gate for an incoming wormhole.  
  
The wormhole produced three new arrivals. Two jaffa with an unconscious figure hanging between them.  
  
Another prisoner? He wasn't SGC. He was dressed in all black, hat included.  
  
The jaffa dragged the limp figure from the gateroom in Jack's direction. He slipped quickly back into his hiding place as they clunked past. With a small blossom of hope, Jack clamped an arm to his midriff and slipped in quietly to follow them.  
  
**********  
  
For a couple of guards dragging an unconscious figure, they certainly took the circuitous route.  
  
First stop off was the throne room for some triumphant prisoner display to his royal goa'uldness. Jack was forced to hunch down in a corner in the corridor outside and hope they left the same way they came in. It was not easy, trying not to be seen. To make things worse, in amongst the goa'uld language he didn't understand, one word was mentioned that he did. Tok'ra. Looks like he had one more extra person to save today.  
  
He'd been sitting in his hiding spot for a good fifteen minutes listening to them rabble on, when an alarm sounded. Guards started running through the corridors. Perhaps they had discovered he was not dead.  
  
The new prisoner, still unconscious, was swept out of the room by his two guards, the door closing securely behind them. Jack was hard put to move quickly enough to keep up with them as they marched briskly down the corridor. The extra guards in the halls made it doubly difficult for Jack to keep up in his condition. He almost lost them twice. He blessed the stupid goa'uld architects who had designed corridors so they provided so much cover.  
  
By the time the two guards reached their destination, Jack was trembling with exhaustion, his face wet with perspiration and lined with pain. But he had found the holding facility.  
  
**********  
  
Almost unsurprising, considering the typical goa'uld overconfidence, O'Neill could only see one guard outside the facility after the others had left. In his condition, he knew he was no match and he had no weapon, and he could see no way to get past the guard.  
  
Think, O'Neill, think! What did he have? A first aid kit, he fossicked through its contents looking ideas. The medkit had a couple of hypodermic needles, but no sedatives. Searching through his pockets he found a couple of MREs, two granola bars and a packet of candy.  
  
He picked up the box of candy, definitely non-regulation, but when you have an addiction, you have an addiction.  
  
The guard had a weapon, a couple in fact. What he needed was a distraction.  
  
Edging as close as possible to the entrance, O'Neill grabbed a handful of candy and threw it high over the guard's head so that they bounced merrily down the other end of the corridor.  
  
The guard immediately turned in that direction, staff weapon at the ready. O'Neill pounced.  
  
His chance was to grab the weapon from the unsuspecting guard's hand and turn it on him. It didn't quite work.  
  
O'Neill found himself hanging on to the immovable object, quickly followed by a face full of angry jaffa. He was grabbed by the throat and lifted off the floor as a strangled gurgle was forced from his throat. A sneer, a look he had seen far too much of lately appeared on the guard's face.  
  
"Did you think it would be that easy, human?"  
  
"Argh..possibly." He spat the word out between his captor's fingers.  
  
The jaffa brought his face close to his own. Eye to eye.  
  
"Your last mistake." The hand tightened.  
  
O'Neill struggled his hands grasping at the man holding him, desperate for purchase. Suddenly he had a hand full of zat.  
  
Who's mistake?  
  
In a last desperate second, he yanked the weapon from his opponent's hip and fed him some of its glorious blue energy.  
  
Unfortunately, O'Neill was a little too close, and attached to his victim at the time. Consequently, the backlash flung him to the floor and sent his head spinning.  
  
He had little time for recovery before a guard from inside, hearing the zatfire, made an appearance. Still seeing double, and consequently two guards as he came running out of the holding area, Jack fired twice from his position on the floor. The guard crumpled.  
  
Needing to rest, but not having the time, he painfully struggled to his feet. The world continued to spin, and when he raised the zat gun in front of him, he found it smeared red where he had clasped his arm to his belly. Looking down, he saw blood on the floor again. No time, no time. God, he hoped he had the right place.  
  
Staggering into the holding area he went to the first door that looked like it belonged to a cell. He blasted it with the zat. Nothing happened. Damn it! He kicked the door. Standing back he fired the zat three times and the door disintegrated. They can damn well buy themselves a new door.  
  
It was the Tok'ra's cell.  
  
Well, he could do with some help.  
  
The man was laying face down on the floor. Jack painfully dropped to his knees and shaking his shoulder turned the man over. Oh my god.  
  
Jacob.  
  
One eye was swollen shut and a huge bruise extended down one side of his face. He shook him again.  
  
"Jacob...Jacob." He swore the world was spinning faster. "Jacob...General...wake up!" Jack forced volume into his raspy voice.  
  
The man stirred, moaning.  
  
"Selmac, Jacob...whoever you are...wakeup!" One eye fluttered open.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"Jacob, I need your help." He really wished the world would stop spinning, it was giving him a headache in his headache.  
  
The single eye flashed as Selmac took to the fore. "Colonel, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Selmac, I really don't know, and I really don't care. I just need to get you and my team out of here..." His brain ran out of steam, the world spun into a blur and he knew no more.  
  
**********  
  
Selmac decided that he had been caught one too many times for his liking. Even the best plans had their flaws, but this was starting to get tiresome.  
  
Jacob was fuming in the background, using some well orchestrated Tauri-specific language that was colourful even in Selmac's extensive vocabulary. Besides if Selmac ever did get his hands on that little snit slave, he was pretty sure he'd let Jacob go for it.  
  
So here we go again. Get caught, knocked out, taken who knows where, wake up and work out a way to get himself out of the predicament this time.  
  
The last thing he expected was to be woken up by Jack O'Neill. Neither did he expect the man to collapse on top of him.  
  
"Colonel?" The man was definitely heavy and it took a bit the shift him off himself so he could sit up and look at him.  
  
As the Colonel slid to his side he left a thick trail of blood on the black fabric of his overshirt.  
  
Jacob swore in the back of his mind and started issuing orders. Half ignoring Jacob, Selmac turned the Colonel over to discover the soaked bandage around his waist. Aw, hell.  
  
That came from the both of them.  
  
No time to do anything but hope. Selmac grabbed the zat and edged out the door of the cell. Why was Jack here? His team, he said he was looking for his team. Sam?  
  
Selmac looked around, there were three other cells. Two were empty. Selmac took out the door of the third.  
  
The moment Sam edged out the door, Selmac stepped back and let Jacob take the fore.  
  
"Dad?" The shocked look flicked between smile and worry.  
  
"Sam, we need to get out of here." Behind her, he heard Daniel mutter, "That's what I've been saying."  
  
"Dad, we've lost the Colonel, we can't leave him behind."  
  
"Sam, I think he's found you." Pointing her in the direction of his former cell, he edged towards the entrance. Scanning for guards, he crept outside to acquire weapons from the fallen guards.  
  
*********  
  
The sound of zatfire had all three of them on their feet and it wasn't long before they saw the signature arching energy pattern at their cell door.  
  
Assuming it was the Colonel on a rampage, Sam was shocked to find her father holding the gun.  
  
"Dad?" He looked awful. Part of her had a hundred questions, another part just wanted to hug him. The rest was kicked into line by her military training.  
  
"Sam, we need to get out of here." Behind her, Daniel muttered, "That's what I've been saying." She made a mental note to clap him across the head when they got home.  
  
Her next thought was of the Colonel. If he wasn't here, where was he? That same military training kept her other more panicked thoughts at bay. "Dad, we've lost the Colonel, we can't leave him behind."  
  
"Sam, I think he's found you." Her father gestured towards another cell before moving towards the entrance to scope out the situation.  
  
She moved almost reluctantly towards the cell, knowing in her heart that if he was all right he would already be out here making some sarcastic comment about how they all got caught. But he wasn't and she knew she would have to steel herself as a multitude of possibilities crowded in her head.  
  
It still didn't soften the blow. He lay, in the dim light, on his back. His uniform soaked red brown down his right side. She felt time slow almost to a stop. Was he dead? No, he couldn't be. Couldn't.  
  
She felt Daniel brush past her, dropping to his knees. Time seemed to float as Daniel called out his name.  
  
"Jack...Jack...speak to me, Jack." O'Neill groaned.  
  
She snapped to real time. Her hands automatically reaching for her medkit. A voice in the back of her mind yelled, 'Work now, freak later.' She'd heard that somewhere before.  
  
Daniel was already examining Jack, lifting his shirt, exposing the blood soaked bandages.  
  
Her father ducked in the door. "We need to move now! We have company coming!"  
  
No time for first aid. Teal'c was at her shoulder before she knew it and Jack was lifted between him and Daniel. The voice at the back of her mind screamed, 'Don't move him!' No choice, no choice. The nearing sound of jaffa echoed in the corridors.  
  
Jacob distributed what weapons he could find between them all and they moved out, hopefully heading for home.  
  
**********  
  
The world tipped on its side again as Jack felt himself lifted and hung between two warm bodies.  
  
"Daniel?" He could barely hear himself above the roar in his head.  
  
"Jack, you with us?"  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Here, sir."  
  
"Teal'c?"  
  
"I am here, O'Neill."  
  
His team, all his team. They were together again. Find the team, spring the team, get the team through the stargate.  
  
"Have we escaped?" He tried to look around him, but everything was blurry. Gold walls? Aw, crap. "Not escaped?"  
  
"We're working on it. sir."  
  
Another thought danced at the edge of his mind.  
  
"Jacob? Jacob was here."  
  
"Here, Jack. Don't worry, we'll get out of here."  
  
Get out of here. Get the team through the stargate. That was his job.  
  
"Have to get to stargate."  
  
"Firstly, we have to get out of goa'uld central. " Jacob sounded in charge. Jacob was a General. He knows what he is doing.  
  
Doesn't he?  
  
"No...no...stop." His body came to an abrupt halt. It was amazing how your body, if it has been in pain long enough, just seems to lose feeling altogether. He didn't mind this numbness at all really. Quite comforting. He felt himself being moved sideways as the group found a hidey hole.  
  
'Colonel, why can't we leave?" Sam. Oh, she is so smart.  
  
"Thank you, Colonel, but I need you to answer my question."  
  
Did he say something out loud? He must have. Snap to it, O'Neill, your team needs you. What was it? Oh, the stargate.  
  
"The stargate...inside." His brain was mush.  
  
"The stargate is inside this structure?" Teal'c.  
  
"Yes. Need to go through the stargate."  
  
A hand touched his face, tracing his cheekbone. Sam? A blur of golden hair glimmered in the haze before him. "Colonel, do you know where it is?"  
  
He did, didn't he? He had been there. It would help if he could see. Damn it. Blinking his eyes furiously, he managed to focus blearily on Sam in front of him. Unfortunately, it also erased the majority of his body's numbness and he clenched in pain.  
  
"Colonel...Colonel, stay with me."  
  
"Argh." It left him gasping for breath. For the team, for the team, for the team. It chanted. Need to get the team through the stargate. Where is the stargate?  
  
"Which...argh...which corridor are we in now?" He looked around for landmarks.  
  
Carter caught his eyes with her own as she directed him where they had come. Searching through his foggy mind to where he had been, he worked out where he was.  
  
"Wrong direction. Turn the other way. T-take second corridor on right."  
  
It took awhile, between dodging guards in the corridors and the more and more frequent lapses in coherent consciousness of their guide. But they reached the gateroom eventually. They hid in the same corridor niche that had hidden O'Neill previously.  
  
By this time the world had become a mass of colours and his numbness had returned. The others gently eased him to sit on the floor. Jack felt his shoulder shaken.  
  
Focus, Jack. It was Jacob, he felt a zat pushed into his hands.  
  
"Jack, watch our six. Can you do that?" Could he? 'Course he could. It was his job to protect the team.  
  
"Sure, Jacob." He held firmly onto the zat. He would protect the team. Focus, Jack, the team needs you.  
  
Zatfire. He edged painfully to a position where he could see the blurred forms of falling guards. The sound of the stargate turning. Blue rainbows of arching energy. The beautiful splash of an opening wormhole.  
  
Suddenly that blurr of golden hair was back. Sam.  
  
"Colonel, time to go. Daniel and Teal'c are going to give you a h-"  
  
The golden hair was gone and suddenly his vision sharpened solidly into focus. Carter was crumpled at his feet, a large blade protruding from her back. The edges of his vision reddened as he raised his eyes to his opponent once more. Glowing, triumphant arrogance flashed back.  
  
"You bastard!" Jack leapt up, adrenalin, grief, anger, desperation, and fire fueling him, and flung himself at the mocking eyes.  
  
Blue energy flickered at the edge of his vision as O'Neill lost it. Everything became a blurr of black and red and anguished hurt until he felt himself being pulled away. Then he knew no more...  
  
**********  
  
"Did he really do that?"  
  
"Yep. Took all three of us to pull him off."  
  
"But how could he, he could hardly move."  
  
"I don't know, Sam, but he did it."  
  
Sam? Sam!  
  
Eyelids could be awfully heavy at times and this time it almost took everything he had to open his. But it was worth it. There at the end of his bed stood his team. And, all hale and healthy, with the exception of an arm in a sling, stood Sam.  
  
"Carter?" Barely a whisper, but they heard.  
  
"Colonel?"  
  
"Carter?"  
  
"Colonel?"  
  
"You know this could go on for awhile if you don't say some other words."  
  
"Daniel?"  
  
"Yes, Jack?"  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"We're all okay, Jack. However you have been attempting to give us all grey hairs - look at Teal'c he's lost all of his."  
  
He managed a smile. "Revenge can be sweet." His eyes turned to Carter. "You okay?"  
  
"I'm fine, Colonel, only a shoulder wound."  
  
"I thought you died." It came out before he could think otherwise. Her eyes widened.  
  
"So that's why you..." She stopped and swallowed. "I have to go check on Dad." She abruptly left the room.  
  
Jack looked at Daniel, a frown crinkling his forehead. "What'd I do?"  
  
"Jack, you may not remember this, but, " he paused. "You shredded a goa'uld yesterday."  
  
"Shredded?!" His eyes widened in alarm.  
  
"Um, yes. We had activated the stargate and Sam had gone to check on you, when we heard you yell. The three of us managed to take out several jaffa and we found you on top of the goa'uld with a knife. You did considerable damage."  
  
"Kathus...that was his name. I thought he had killed Carter."  
  
"Well, you made sure he was really and truly dead."  
  
"Oh. How's Jacob?"  
  
Daniel's frowned at the change in the abrupt change of topic. "Oh, he's fine. Selmac fixed him up fine."  
  
Jack glanced at the door Carter had disappeared through. He wondered what she was thinking.  
  
"You're awake, Colonel. It's about time." preceded the hustle and bustle of Janet Fraiser. "You two, out. The Colonel needs rest."  
  
"See ya, Jack." Daniel waved and Teal'c bowed out.  
  
"You're going to be fine, Colonel. Surgery went well and if you are good I might let you out of here sometime next week.  
  
"But..."  
  
"That's my job, Colonel. You break, I fix. You do as I say."  
  
He wasn't game to say anymore. Besides he'd done his job.  
  
The team was home.  
  
**********  
  
1 


End file.
